


If You Plant Two Seeds Together (They'll Grow Entangled)

by Lwoorl



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, childhood best friends au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 02:01:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20986979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lwoorl/pseuds/Lwoorl
Summary: Au in which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are friends since childhood. Little snapshots of their friendship through the years.





	If You Plant Two Seeds Together (They'll Grow Entangled)

**Author's Note:**

> I want to note that while I did tag this as superbats, and Clark and Bruce will, in fact, date at some point in here, the couple isn't endgame. So don't expect a romantic relationship to be the focus of this fic. 
> 
> Why, you ask? Because I like the friends to lovers to friends trope, I answer.

Only now does it occur to Bruce it might have been a bad idea. 

It all started with this trip to Metropolis, another one of his parents' business things. And, as they always do for domestic trips, they decided to bring Bruce with them.

"We will go to the museum." They said when listing all the things they would do once their meetings were over, and "We will go to the museum." They said when he asked at the hotel once again on the second day, and "I'm sorry darling, but we have been a bit busier than we expected." They said on the morning of their last day in the city.

So Bruce got angry, really angry. It's not that he wanted to go to the museum that badly, this is not even the first time he's stayed in Metropolis with Mom and Dad. It's the fact they _ promised. _ They promised and kept promising and at the end let him down. If they weren't going to bring him, they at least could have said so since the beginning. They _ lied. _

So he left. While sitting in the waiting room, an assistant looking over him, he asked to go to the bathroom, threw a tantrum when the woman insisted on accompanying him, saying something like "I'm old enough to walk to the end of the hallway alone!", left the building as soon as he got out of her sight, walked to the bus station nearby (only two streets away) and sinking his fingers into an old lady's skirt, too old and distracted to even notice, boarded the first bus he saw.

At first it was exciting, the sense of adventure and self accomplishment mixed into something congratulatory. But soon, as he watched the city fade away and cows and horses started popping up in the landscape, little six years old Bruce Wayne started realizing he made a very, very stupid choice. 

Out of pure instinct he follows the old woman when she gets off, then stands at the lonely bus stop and watches as both the bus and the lady go in opposite directions and disappear into the countryside, unsure of what to do. 

Bruce sits on the bench, his little feet dangling centimeters off the ground, and decides this was, in fact, a bad idea. He doesn't have money, nor food, nor a direction to head towards. Just the clothes on his back and the watch his mom bought him. As much as he hates to admit it, he needs some grown up help. 

He's going to wait for the next bus, Bruce decides, seeing as the old lady is already gone and he doesn't know what path would bring him where. He has the advantage of being little, which means people are willing to help him: If he tells the driver about his situation he will surely agree to bring him back to the city.

So he sits, and waits, and shifts and moves from one position to the next until the sun's traveled far enough the small roof of the bus stop can't shelter his eyes anymore and his stomach starts to grumble. And yet, no bus in sight. 

Deciding it's useless sitting here and doing nothing, he stands up and starts walking in the direction the woman took earlier. He just needs to find a town or a house. Yes! That's all he needs to do, he decides, all he needs is a phone or a policeman and he will be back home in no time. 

So he walks in a straight line, not trusting himself to take the forks in the road, and walks, and walks, and _ walks _ until it starts darkening. 

By then his feet and stomach hurt and a pressure has started forming behind his eyes, but he won't cry, he tells himself, he's a big boy and big boys don't cry. Finding the air coming through his nose insufficient, Bruce opens his mouth to take a shaky breath, and then another, and his composure starts cracking like a dam with a fissure. First he sniffs, then a single tear travels down his cheek, followed by another six, then another ten, and eventually he's crying and screaming like only a lost little kid can, his mouth open and head tilted back as he keeps taking little steps forward, the tears and snout covering his face from his eyes to his chin.

"Are you ok?" 

Bruce pauses, all sounds dying inside his throat, and slowly turns towards the voice he just heard. 

Standing next to him, close enough he should have heard him coming, is a kid around his age, with black hair and blue eyes, holding a soccer ball.

"I wasn't crying." Says Bruce, scrubbing tears out of his eyes, his voice hoarse from screaming. It's as convincing as hiding behind Alfred when he doesn't want to go to the doctor. 

"Right." The other kid answers, completely unconvinced. He takes a step forward, but stops as Bruce takes a step back. "I don't know you." He says, like it's a really interesting realization, looking him up and down. "You live around here? I haven't heard of any new neighbors." 

"I don't live here." Bruce replies, frowning and crossing his arms. "I'm from Gotham." 

"Wow!" The kid gapes. "So what are you doing here?!" 

"I… Got lost."

"From Gotham?!" 

"My parents took me on a trip." He shrugs. "I took the wrong bus and ended here."

"Eeeh, that's terrible! They must be really worried!" 

Bruce shrugs again. He's about to add something else when the conversation is interrupted by the low groan of his stomach.

"Uh." Is all he can mutter, suddenly grateful his face is already red from crying, as he feels some color would creep there otherwise. The other kid doesn't seem bothered, if anything just starts to smile.

"You hungry? My house's over there." He says, pointing somewhere in the distance. "Wanna come? It's almost dinner time."

"...Fine." Bruce agrees, holding up one hand for a handshake. The kid stares at it for a moment, one eyebrow raised, before finally taking it. "My name's Bruce, by the way."

"I'm Clark, nice to meet you, Bruce!"

  


Just as Clark thought, Ma and Pa are happy having Bruce for dinner, if still concerned about his missing kid status. 

They sit him on the table and serve him a big ration. He raises a forkful towards his face and takes a sniff, as if he had never seen chili in his life, and then starts eating like someone who hasn't eaten in a week. 

Once the meal is over with Pa goes looking for the phone. He hands it to Bruce, telling him to call his parents so they don't have to worry. Bruce thanks him before moving to dial the number, and then stops with a blank expression. 

"What's wrong?" 

"...I don't know my house's phone number."

"Wait, really?!" Clark exclaims, leaning closer. "But everyone knows their number! What do you do if you need someone to pick you early from school or a friend asks you?!" 

"Clark, don't be mean." Ma chastises. 

"Sorry." Clark mumbles, lowering his head.

Bruce stares at the phone another minute or so before handing it back, his face a bit red. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry sweetheart. It's ok." Ma reassures, putting the phone back on its place and then turning towards the window. "It's too late to go to the town, so I guess Bruce will have to stay for the night. Tomorrow we can go to the police station." 

"...Thank you." 

"Don't even mention it!" Clark moves to punch Bruce on the shoulder. The kid stills for a moment, before weakly returning the gesture, like he isn't sure if that's the proper response. Clark smiles at him, and for once Bruce smiles back.

  


"Bruce? Hey, Bruce, are you awake? Bruce come on!"

"…Clark? What?"

"You awake?"

"I am now."

"Oh. Cool."

"What's it?"

"Wanna play something?"

"It's still dark outside. Go back to sleep."

"Bruce come on!"

"Night."

"Bruceeee!"

"Fine, fine, stop shaking me! I'm awake!"

"So. What do you want to play?"

"You woke me up in the middle of the night to play a game and you don't even know what?"

"Oh, I know! I got this Atari for my birthday! Let's play Tetris!"

"That's a one person game."

"We will take turns, come on!"

"Fine."

  


The town is called Smallville, he's told, as Clark's dad drives him in the family's red truck, and as he looks at the streets through the windows Bruce can't help but to agree on the name, the tallest building he can see can't be more than four stores high. 

He's taken to the police station, a small building that looks more like a house, and sit alongside Clark's dad in the chief's office. 

"So you say he took the wrong bus and ended here?"

"That's right."

"Hm. Say, where are you from, kid, uh, Bruce you said?"

"Yes… I live in Gotham." 

"There aren't buses from Gotham to Smallville that I know of."

"I took it in Metropolis." 

"I see." The woman nods, scratching her pen against a piece of paper. "Say, what's your last name again?"

Bruce's about to answer, lips already started to part to say the word, and then closes his mouth. "I can't tell you." He says instead.

He should tell her, he knows this, it's the police and the police protects people! He thought he could. But when it finally comes to it he finds he can't actually do it, the rule _ 'Don't tell you're a Wayne to extrangers.' _ Almost as ingrained as _ 'Don't speak to strangers on the first place.'... _Not that he managed to follow that one so far. But he doesn't want to break any more rules than he's already broken.

The woman raises an eyebrow and writes something else, before turning back towards Clark's dad. "There shouldn't be too many cases of kids from Gotham getting lost in Metropolis who are called Bruce. I'll look it up." She stops, biting the tip of her pen, and then looks back at Bruce. "Didn't you realize your parents weren't with you when you took the bus?"

"I thought another lady was my mom." He shrugs, not quite willing to admit he ran away just to regret it later. The woman's brown furrows. 

"And you didn't realize it wasn't her when you got on the bus?"

"I didn't. I only realized it later and then I got off."

"Look, kid." She sighs. "You won't get in troubles for lying, you know?"

"I'm not lying." He insist. Frowning back. The woman holds his gaze before sighing again. 

"Alright." She gives up. "I hope he can stay with your family while I get in contact with the state police? Right, Jonathan?" 

"It won't be a problem." Clark's dad nods. And soon enough they're leaving and getting back into the car. 

Neither of them say anything until reaching the borders of the town, where the buildings get replaced by the huge expanse of green, and then Clark's dad asks. "Are your parents good people?"

"Of course!" 

"Alright." He nods, his attention back to the road. 

Bruce sulks into his seat for another ten minutes, before finally giving up. "They promised to take me to the museum but then didn't. I got angry so I ran away and took the bus." He admits. "I shouldn't have, they're good. Mom gets angry when I don't do my homework and my dad won't let me eat candy for breakfast, but they read me stories before going to sleep and always listen when I talk about the movies I like." 

Clark's dad is silent for the rest of the trip, but then when they get back to the Kents' farm and he goes to open Bruce's door, he smiles and says. "Don't worry Bruce, I'm sure you'll be back home in no time." 

  


It's night, some eight or ten hours after Pa took Bruce to the police station. They're watching a VHS of Rocky and discussing who gets the bed.

"I slept on the bed last night so you should get it tonight."

"But it's _ your _bed. You have to sleep on it."

"I'll sleep on it when your parents come for you." 

"Well, I'll sleep on mine when my parents come for me."

The doorbell rings, followed by a knock at the door. Clark hits pause, then looks at the clock. It's too late for visits. 

As Pa and Ma go to open the door, Clark hears a woman say "Hello, is this the Kent residence?" Before covering his ears. Next to him, Bruce looks at him weird. 

He can't help it, ever since half a year ago or so his hearing got really good. It's usually a good thing, but it can also be bad, after all listening to other people's conversations is rude. 

"What are you doing?" Bruce asks, but before Clark can think of an answer he's standing up and looking at the hallway with very big, round eyes. 

"Mom! Dad!" He calls, running towards a man and a woman that quickly envelop him into a hug. 

"Bruce!" Cries the woman. And "We were so worried!" Exclaims the man. Clark decides to take out the VHS and go put it with the other ones in his room, if only because he feels awkward just sitting there and staring. 

Once he gets back, the adults are sitting in the kitchen. Bruce's sitting nearby in the living room, so that's where he goes. 

"So I guess you're leaving?" 

"Yep." Bruce nods.

"Oh… Cool."

They remain silent after that, Bruce's feet swinging back and forth, his body bouncing a bit, and Clark rubs his hands against the sofa. Back in the kitchen, he hears someone say something like "Thank you." And "Financial compensation."

"See, this is why you memorize your phone number!" Clark exclaims, running back into his room, returning with his school notebook and a pen. He quickly rips off a page, not caring it makes part of his summer homework, and scrawling his number there shoves it onto Bruce's hands "Here. Take it."

Bruce looks down and the paper, then back up, then down again, and then nods with a force that makes his entire body bounce. "I'll go ask mom and dad what ours is!" He exclaims, jumping from the couch and running into the kitchen. 

By the time the Waynes leave Clark's holding a business card with Bruce's home address and number on the back. 

  


"Eh, really?"

"No way!"

"And you really helped with it?"

"Was it a girl or a boy?"

"What did you name her?" 

"That's such a lame name…"

"It is! I can't believe your parents let you pick such a bad name."

"Hm, I dunno, but I wouldn't have picked such a bad one… Maybe Annabelle? No, wait, Cleopatra!"

"Wh- Stop laughing! What's so funny?! Come on!"

"Yes, yes, of course. So what happened after that?"

"Bruce, are you talking with Clark again?" Martha asks, resting a hand on her son's shoulder. Bruce moves to cover the phone's microphone and turns towards her. 

"Did you know Clark helped with a cow giving birth?!" He says, and the excitement behind his words makes her smile a little. 

Bruce doesn't have many friends, a lot of acquaintances, yes, and he will call all his classmates _ "my friends from school" _ but he's never had people his age he actively wants to spend time with. Any time he's invited to a birthday party he will be disappointed when she tells him he's allowed to go. 

She didn't think much of it, after all, it's not like he's seclusive, he's fine playing with other kids, doesn't bully anyone nor is bullied himself. She doesn't remember much of her own childhood, so she chalked it down to little kids' friendships just being shallow like that. 

Now though, seeing him anytime he talks with Clark on the phone, or when they allow him to go visit the farm... She knows a lifelong friendship when she sees it… It makes her miss Celia, sometimes.

Thomas is still unsure about letting them be friends, even if her husband won't admit it, (and maybe he hasn't noticed his own feeling himself) she still can tell. He's hoping Bruce will just stop caring one day, will just stop wanting to hang out with this _ farm boy. _ She notices in how he bites his lip when Bruce talks about the Kent family, or how he will smile brighter when Bruce dully informs him he was invited to a classmate's house than when he excitedly retells helping Jonathan Kent fix his tractor. 

She doesn't blame him, not completely anyway. As long as her husband doesn't actively try to keep her son away from his first real friend Thomas is entitled to his mixed feelings. She doesn't think Bruce noticed, anyway, and, she has to admit, Martha herself wasn't sure about it the first time her son asked to go visit his friend for the weekend. It was only the smile Bruce came back with next Sunday what erased any of her original doubts.

"Why don't you invite him to your birthday?" Martha asks. She honestly finds it surprising Bruce hasn't asked Clark to come to the manor yet. His birthday is in two months, wouldn't it be a nice opportunity? She's sure Clark's parents wouldn't mind the drive, they seemed so kind the handful of times she's spoken to them, and if she's wrong and the distance ends being a problem, well, she can always help them with the transportation.

"Would dad be ok with that?" Bruce asks and she has to do a major effort not to flinch. 

So Bruce did notice Thomas' feelings on the matter too. 

She underestimated him. 

"Of course, sweetheart!" She smiles. "After all, birthdays are for spending them with your closest friends!" 

Bruce stares at her for a second, and then breaks into a smile. He goes back to talking on the phone and she puts a kiss on his hair before leaving the room, leaving her son's excited talk about birthday parties and cows behind her. 

She's going to have to talk with Thomas. A long talk. 

  


Clark isn't sure what exactly to expect of Bruce's home.

Because he knows he's rich, he knows that, so he knows it's got to be big, as if the conversation he had with him last month wasn't enough indicator. 

_ 'I like your house, it's like the ones you see in movies!' _

_ 'How so?' _

_ 'It's tiny.' _

_ 'Rude!' _

But he didn't quite realize just how _ big _ and how _ rich _until they're crossing the main gate and approaching a building that's got to be at the very least four times his school's size. 

He can't help but to squash his gift against his chest, looking down at his worn down overalls. He had a white shirt and black pants that were a bit nicer, but ended staining them this morning right when they were about to leave. Now, having passed the huge metal gates and taken a look to the huge building he regrets not having been more careful with his clothes.

But… As they're getting out of the car Ma almost trips with her own feet and Pa almost forgets his keys inside. So at least he isn't the only one nervous. 

Alfred, the old man who sometimes drives Bruce when he visits, welcomes them at the door and shows them the way to an open space nearby the main building that has been furnished for the party. 

Amidst the colorful flowers and perfectly trimmed bushes a couple of tents have been set, under which a bunch of people, mostly adults, take refuge, chatting and drinking champagne. Out under the sun several kids run from one place to another, there are tables with food and the biggest chocolate fountain Clark's ever seen, even counting the ones on tv (He's never seen any outside of tv) 

He separates from his parents, who wander towards the tents. "We're going to mingle with the other grown ups, ok Clark?" They say as they part, but he's able to hear "Do you think they will notice this suit is rented?", "Act natural. I've heard rich people are like sharks, they smell fear" and "Let's pray Martha Wayne is there. She's nice." When they're far enough they think he isn't listening. 

Bruce's mom isn't under the tents, he can hear her somewhere on the opposite direction, talking with Bruce's dad. Clark bows his head and mentally thanks his parents for their sacrifice, and then starts looking for Bruce. 

Finding him isn't too hard. Bruce's voice is mixed among other children's, and with so many people talking he can't make out the conversation, but at the end he picks it and follows it, and finds him talking with another kid, her short red hair picked up on a tiny ponytail. 

Bruce notices him as soon as he starts approaching, his gaze passes over him, and then he does a double take "Clark!" He exclaims as he sprints and hugs him, squashing the present a bit more. 

"Hello!" The girl greets, coming closer. "Are you one of Bruce's classmates?"

"This is Clark!" Bruce responds for him. "His family has a farm!"

"Really?!" Comes another girl, really similar to the redhead one, but blonde. "Do you have bunnies?!"

"No, but we have cows." 

"Cool! Have you milked a cow before?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Is it true their ubers feel like rubber?"

"Not really."

"Ah, these are my cousins." Bruce interrupts, gesturing towards the girls. "This one's Kate, this one's Beth, they're twins." 

"Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too!"

"Is that for Bruce?" Kate asks, pointing at the, at this point, a little squished package. Not that it was that well wrapped to start with, given that Clark insisted on doing it himself. At this point it's so worn down he swears he can clearly see what's inside. 

"It's not much but-"

"Thank you!" Bruce takes the box, not even letting him finish, and then disappears between the crowd "I'll go put it with the other gifts!" 

At the end, they have fun. They play musical chairs and tag, there's a shadow puppets show and at some point Beth falls into the chocolate fountain and they have to rescue her.

  


"This is boring." Kate says, throwing her cards down. Beth gasps and throws herself to cover the discarded hand with her body, as if Kate didn't give up on the game just now. 

"What do you want to do?" Her cousin asks. 

They're in Bruce's room, waiting for the afterparty to be over with. It's always like this with the Waynes, they have a small party in the morning or evening that's actually_ fun, _and then the adults take the building to, like, chat and drink and no much else. She doesn't get it, her parents don't do afterparties, barely throw birthday parties for her and her sister as it is, she thinks after parties are dumb. 

"I dunno." She says, letting herself lie on the floor next to Beth. 

"Let's go back to play." Beth tells her. "You're just scared I'm gonna win." 

"You have two pairs and nothing else, I've been seeing your hand the entire game." 

Beth's mouth goes open in shock as she stares at Kate for several seconds, opening and closing it like a fish, before finally deciding to just launch herself over her sister. "You traitor!"

"Ow!"

Kate pushes Beth off her and tries to pin her down, only for Beth to repeat the movement on her, and eventually they're rolling on the floor from one side of the room to another, only occasionally hitting their heads against the mobiliary. 

"Don't fight!" Bruce exclaims, before moving to try and separate them. It doesn't work at all, and instead the sisters just grab one arm each and pull him into the jumble of limbs. "Don't-!" The three of them keep rolling and pushing each other until finally coming to a stop when they hit one of the walls, breaking apart and then lying on the floor in a pile of kids, Bruce's legs on Beth's stomach, Beth's head on Kate's shoulder. 

"Hey." She says, after they stare at the ceiling for a while. "Did you ever open that gift from Clerk?"

"Clerk?"

"You know, the farmer."

"His name isn't Clerk!"

"Mark?" Beth tries to guess. 

"Bart." Kate also says. 

"Matt."

"Tom."

"Terry."

"Jerry."

"His name is Clark!" Bruce exclaims, sitting up and throwing his arms up. Kate and Beth laugh at it. "And no, I haven't yet."

"Let's open it." Beth says, already moving to retrieve the gift from where it is on the desk. "There it goes!"

"Don't throw it! Beth! No, Beth don't-!" Bruce tries, just in time for Beth to throw it. Kate stands up and catches it before it hits a wall. 

"And save!"

"Go pitcher!" 

"You two are the worst." Bruce grumbles, moving to take the gift from Kate's hands. "What if it's fragile?!" 

"We're sorry, so sorry, very sorry. Come on, open it!"

Bruce rolls his eyes, but still starts opening the gift, careful not to rip the paper like an old person. And then gasps once it's finally out.

"What's it?!" Kate asks, moving to look over Bruce's shoulder. The gift is… A picture of a baby cow?

"Clark gave me a cow!" He exclaims. Behind Bruce Kate sees Beth moving a finger in circles next to her temple 'Our cousin went crazy' that movement says. 'You mean he wasn't crazy already?' Kate's look replies. 

"He gave you a _ picture _ of a cow."

"No, like, see!" Bruce says, pointing at corner of the frame, where 'Cleopatra' is written in black sharpie. "He named her what I told him, he named a cow for me! She's my cow!" 

"Oh… Sure." 

"Is that… A normal farm people gift? Naming a cow?" Beth asks. Kate can't do anything but to shrug. 

Well, Bruce looks happy, so it must be alright. 

  


Clark opens the door before Bruce has the chance to knock and takes one of his arms before he can react.

"Bruce!" He exclaims, with the excitement of a cat who found a stash of catnip. "Come on in!" And pulls him inside before he can walk himself in. 

"Hi!" 

"Bruce!" Clark all but yells, as if he was at the other end of a field and not right beside him. With his free hand, Bruce covers one ear.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry. Anyway! Come!" He says, once again pulling Bruce by his captive extremity, into the living room and up the stairs. 

"What's it?"

"I asked my parents and they said I could tell you!"

"Tell me what?" 

"Come on, come with me!" Clark keeps bouncing on his feet, pushing his bedroom door open, moving towards a window and opening that too. 

"Clark, what are yo-" He starts to say when his friend basically throws himself through the open window. "Clark!" Bruce moves to try and catch him, but isn't quick enough and Clark jumps out. 

Perched on the edge of the window, Bruce looks down expecting to find his best friend with a broken leg twisting in pain on the floor. Instead.

"...Clark."

"Yes?"

"Clark… You're flying." 

Clark sits cross legged just outside the window, _ floating _several meters above the ground. He then opens his arms and grins like his face is about to split apart. 

"And you have _ no idea _what else I can do!"

  


"Why are we doing this again?" Clark asks. Trying not to eye the distance from here to the floor. Bruce squirms on his back, unrolling a bit of the rope, and Clark's hold on his legs tightens a little. 

"We need to know how high you can fly." Bruce answers, like that explains everything.

"But _ why?" _

He can't see Bruce's face, but he can _ feel _he's rolling his eyes. "Are you telling me you aren't at all curious? Come on Clark, stop complaining and move up other 10 meters."

"I don't know Bruce, this is already the highest I've ever come." He sighs. "You know, when I first started flying I couldn't stop it. It started in the barn so Ma and Pa had to get a ladder and tie a rope around me to bring me inside the house and then I couldn't go out for a week so I wouldn't get lost in the sky. _ Are you sure this is a good idea?" _

"I mean, that sounds bad but you can control it now, right?" Clark nods. "Then there's nothing to be scared of! No matter how high we get you still know how to go down, it's fine."

Clark wants to argue against that. Instead he just moves a bit higher and prays his parents will come early from whatever they had to do in the town.

"Wait, I ran out of rope." Bruce says, moving to take off his backpack. "I need to tie another one, just give me a minute." 

"I'm just saying, what are we even going to do once we know how high I can go? It's not like-" He starts to say, when, while tying the pieces of rope together, Bruce drops the backpack. 

Bruce throws himself sideways towards the backpack, and Clark's shoulders follow his movement, making them turn upside down. "Ah!"

"Oh my God." Clark mutters, unable to avoid looking down now that his face is towards the ground, where the house is so far away it looks like one of those little ones you see in the school's model of the town. 

"What are you waiting for?!" Bruce exclaims. "Get upright! Get upright now!" 

"I'm trying!" Clark bends his knees and tries to impulse himself to turn, but he isn't used to having the weight of another person and just ends swinging a little. 

"Clark I swear to God!" 

"Maybe if I-" He mutters, as he tries extending one hand in front of him. It only works for letting go of one of Bruce's legs, who yells and lets the backpack and rope fall as he starts dangling from one leg. 

"I'm going to die! I'm going to die!" 

"You're not going to die!"

"I'm going to die! Oh my God Clark I'm going to die!"

"Shut up! I just need to-" Moving his arm as if he was swimming, the other hand firmly holding Bruce's ankle, Clark's able to put himself upright once more. He tries grabbing Bruce's other leg now, but he won't stop moving, and in the process ends letting go of him. 

"Oh my God!" Bruce exclaims as Clark throws himself forward, managing to catch one of his arms. "Oh my God I'm going to die!"

"You're not going to die!" 

"Clark if you drop me I swear to god-!"

"I'm not going to drop you! Give me your other hand!"

Somehow, Bruce manages to follow the instruction, all the way screaming and crying. Clark pulls of Bruce's wrists, and with some effort manages to put his arms around Bruce's chest. 

"There, I got you now."

Both of them breathe hard for a moment, just in and out, in and out. "Can we go down now?" Clark asks, once their hearts have calmed down. For once Bruce doesn't put any resistance to the idea.

He goes down slowly, on little, controlled bursts, not daring to move his arms from where they are firmly set around Bruce. Until, eventually, their feet finally touch the ground and both kids fall on their backs. 

"I'm never flying again." Clark mutters, scrubbing the sweat off his face.

Bruce. His friend. Who could have died. Bruce, the same Bruce who still has dried tears on his face, Bruce, who was screaming at the top of his lungs just now. Bruce has the audacity to sit up and say. "It wasn't so bad."

Bruce has a lot of luck Clark's got his eyes closed at the moment, because he isn't sure he could control his heat vision if he were to glare at him as he wants to right now. 

  


When Clark was five, he watched a woman crying on the news. He doesn't even remember about what, just her face, nose and cheeks red like apples, ugly fat tears running down her chin. Now he's nine and doesn't watch news since then.

Ma and Pa like watching them though, specially the morning news. It's not a problem when they watch them while he's at school, but his parents also like watching them on weekends, so they created a system. 

They will eat breakfast together, maybe talking about what dreams they had last night, while Ma looks their meaning up in her old interpretation book. Then after doing the dishes he will go to his room, as his parents put the living room's tv on mute with close caption on. 

It's a normal Saturday. Clark talks about dreaming he was a fish, eats the last leftover of his birthday cake for breakfast, does the dishes, goes to his room. He's working on his homework when he hears Pa gasp and Ma standing up. He waits, and nothing else comes, but their hearts keep beating fast. 

Curious, he goes to the living room. His parents look sad, Pa has a hand over his mouth, and Ma still doesn't sit down.

"...Clark." Pa says, looking at him like he's going to cry. 

Clark feels the temptation to go back to his room, close the door, whatever it is can't be good. Instead he takes a peak at the tv. There, on the screen, is Bruce's face, Alfred's hand on one shoulder, the subtitles read the words "Crime Alley." and "Orphan." and "Murder."

"I- I should." He starts to stutter, turning towards his parents. "Can I...?" He asks, not sure what he means.

Ma, finally getting out of her shock, says. "Of course, Clark." She nods. "Go see your friend."

He's out the door and flying before she even gets the last word out. 

Everything that happens next is sort of a haze. The flying there, standing in front of the door, even Alfred's small, quiet "Oh." before letting him in, it's nothing but a buzz he only comes out of as he pushes open Bruce's door.

"Bruce?"

Clark almost doesn't even notice him at first, quiet and silent as he is, only his heartbeat betraying him. It's only after taking a couple of steps inside the room that he sees the small lump on the bed's covers.

He moves to move the sheets away, revealing a small kid lying on the bed, his body boneless except for the arms with which he's holding a pillow against his chest. 

He blinks, and his eyes barely move to acknowledge Clark, before going back to staring at nothing.

Not knowing what to say, Clark just sits beside him. His hand hovers over Bruce's shoulder for a moment before finally setting for resting on it.

"Are you… Ok?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Of course I'm not fine!" Bruce exclaims, sitting up and moving away from Clark's hand. His eyes finally focusing on something, focusing on Clark's face with an anger he isn't used to see in his best friend. "Why do you even ask?! You know I'm not fine, so why do you ask?!" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"Why-" Bruce's voice breaks. He takes a deep breath and continues, calmer. "Why are you here, Clark?"

"I just… Saw it on the news. You shouldn't be alone right now."

"What do you know?" He mutters, turning away from him. "What do you even know? Maybe I want to be alone. I didn't call you, did I? Maybe I didn't want you to come."

"You can't just lock yourself in your room."

"Why not?! What, you know everything now?!" He moves forward, pushing Clark back. When it fails to move him he tries again, and again "You just know what's best for everyone now?!" He hits his fists against Clark's chest once, twice, until he's left gasping for air. 

"...You done?"

Bruce raises his eyes, meeting Clark's just a second, and then looks back down. "I'm fine." He sighs. "I'm-... No. I'm not. But I'll be fine. Just. I don't want to talk with anyone yet." 

"Bruce…" Clark moves to touch him, but then he stops, just staring at Bruce's face. His face, red like an apple, ugly fat tears running down his chin. 

"I just… Want to be alone right now… Please?"

There's nothing Clark can do against that. He leaves. 

  


Clark doesn't call, nor does he visit, respecting Bruce's petition to be alone maybe a little too much, and they don't see each other for several months after that, almost an entire year.

It's Clark's tenth birthday, Ma and Pa got him a neapolitan ice cream cake and he invited a couple of friends from school. They sing happy birthday early, mostly because the cake's starting to melt, and open the gifts, and Pa puts on an old rock cd, and he's already resigned himself to spend the day without Bruce.

It's late afternoon and one or two people already had to leave when he hears a car stopping in front of the farm. There is the thump of a car door opening and closing, and the step step step of two people walking. He still can't distinguish people just by the sounds they make, he's working on it, but he isn't quite there yet, and these two aren't talking to each other, so he can only wait and try not to feel too hopeful. 

He goes to open the door a second before they ring the bell, and finds himself in front of Alfred, tall and dignified like always. Bruce hides behind him, like the butler's legs can hide him at all, as if his hands and shoes weren't sticking out. Clark peers behind Alfred, not really paying attention to the greeting he's surely saying, and Bruce looks away. 

"Hi." Is the best thing Clark can come up with. 

"...Hi." Seems to be the best response Bruce can come up with, too. 

"Come inside?"

The rest of the day passes clumsily. Alfred decides to stay, instead of leaving and coming to pick up Bruce later as he always does, and the way Bruce won't take three steps away from him gives Clark the idea he's acting as a security blanket. 

They don't really_ talk._ Alfred strikes conversation with his parents, but that really doesn't count. Bruce sits at the table, and slowly eats the slice of cake Ma got from the fridge for him. Clark doesn't dare just approaching him, as if fearing the wrong words are going to send Bruce into ignoring him for another year. 

Eventually it starts getting dark, and everyone else leaves. He's already resigned to end the day without any progress when Bruce makes his move. He takes a deep breath, Alfred places a hand on his shoulder for a second, and then he's moving to stand next to Clark. 

"Sorry for the lack of any gifts." He starts to say, arms around his stomach, voice lower than usual, like he's getting sick. "I wasn't going to come, so I didn't get a gift. I'll mail you something-"

Clark doesn't think it twice before putting his arms around him, squeezing thing. "Don't worry about that, I'm just happy you came." 

Bruce freezes, and then he's placing his arms around Clark's shoulders too.

"You Idiot!" He sobs, burying his face into Clark's shoulder. "Why did you hug me?! Now I'm crying!"

All in all, it's a pretty good birthday. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always please remember to comment!!!


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